The Things Left Unsaid
by HannahCake310
Summary: Forced to give up his command to save the life of his best friend, James T. Kirk leaves the Enterprise with the threat to never return. Luckily for Jim, his crew doesn't give up so easily.
1. Chapter 1: The Enemy Within

**Never written for Star Trek before so here goes nothing!**

***for all of you confused people out there who are seeing déjà vu with this story or are questioning as to why this was deleated then reposted please go to the bottom of this page. Thank you.**

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><p><strong><span>The Things Left Unsaid <span>**

**Chapter 1: The Enemy Within**

Maybe there was no other way. Maybe there's a time and a place to quit, to end, to throw his hands up to space and say, "I can't do this. You win. You win..." He didn't believe in a no win scenario but maybe it was time that he started to. He couldn't win this time, he couldn't fight this fight. There was no one to fight. Well, there was but no one he could win against. No one he could pound his fist into over and over again until his arm shook covered in blood both his and theirs. There wasn't anyone who he could shoot three times in the chest and once in the face like the instructors at the Academy had joked once about doing - to ensure the enemy was dead beyond a shadow of a doubt. He couldn't do that. He couldn't lash out with his fists or pull his phaser from his belt and shoot because there was no enemy.

There was no enemy to fight. No one to move aside, to push. There was no one to talk down. But there was a gun. A fully loaded, totally accurate, completely antique and incredibly barbaric twentieth century pistol cocked and ready to shoot and kill with blood splattering and screaming.

Jim hated guns. He hated phasers almost as much but guns, guns held a special place of hatred deep in his heart.

It was a gun that got him in trouble when he was five and had found it in his Daddy's box of old things that was stuffed away in the back of the attic behind Sammy's toys that he never played with anymore. He'd found it buried under a pile of old bound paper books that he'd never seen before and shirts that smelled musty with a hint of spice from Daddy's cologne that Mommy had used to wear when she got sad sometimes. Little Jimmy had grabbed the shiny metal _whatever_ it was and brought it to his mother, all smiles and awestruck at how glinty it was, how small it was but heavy and solid in his tiny hands.

"Where the hell did you get that?!" Was screamed at him so loudly, so fast he'd dropped the shiny metal revolver and skidded away from it as fast as he could. His mommy, all crazed blonde hair and face reddened in anger had grabbed it with clawed hands and hid it away out of his sight. He'd never seen it again and from the three days when Mommy hadn't spoken to him he'd learned never to touch Daddy's old box again.

It was guns that Kodos' men had used to usher and move the masses of people into the down square. Guns that were held up and out with fingers on triggers when the slightly balding man with a clean shaven face and red robe tied around his thick torso had given his speech.

"_The revolution is successful. But survival depends on drastic measures. Your continued existence represents a threat to the well-being of society. Your lives mean slow death to the more valued members of the colony..."_

The sound of gun fire popping was the first sound after Kodos' strange speech. Jim had hit the ground fast already recognizing the sound. People screamed. The woman to his right - Karren's mother Kardeth who he'd met the first day of school - looked around wildly before ducking and falling to her knees, blood gushing from her side. She fell to the side her brown air spilling in all directions and eyes still open, dirt and blood splattering the whites. It was chaos, complete with screams of surrender and the begs of forgiveness. Beside him three more people fell face first on the ground smashing into the pavement hard enough to break bone. The citizens of Tarsus scrambled and ran stepping on the bodies of the dead to get out, get away from the bullets. Someone kicked Jim in the face, another stepped on his knee. Jim yelled in agony hearing something crack and seeing stars burst in his eyes. He couldn't get up to move or escape so he stayed still. He grabbed at Karren's mom's body then at the other bodies around himself and pulled as hard as he could. With the sounds of guns peppering and people screaming he covered himself in bodies and slowed his breathing trying to play dead.

It felt like hours later when bodies littered the ground like a second pavement and blood ran in rivers from the dead. Guards walked over the dead with their guns out and hands still on triggers shooting the ones who twitched or moved at all, making sure the dead were truly dead. One guard came close to where Jim was hidden and stopping looking around. Jim held his breath and closed his eyes forcing his face to go lax. That was the day Jim learned that playing dead killed a piece of your soul.

It was a bullet that had been shot into his shoulder when he was eighteen working at a mechanic shop and believing himself to be invincible. The mugger thought he could lift all the money in the little shop that Al Jensen - old man with grey hair and missing teeth even though it was the twenty third century and no one lost their teeth anymore - owned. The mugger dressed in black and picked the absolute wrong guy to mess with as Jim got done finishing up a beautiful 2245 lime green Mustang. He was covered in grime, tired, annoyed as all get out and pissed as hell.

"Give me all you got and maybe I won't have to shoot ya."

Jim. Eighteen. Survivor of Tarsus. Living on his own. Making his own way in life. Invincible. Had scoffed at the man.

"Try it."

And the gun went off and Jim went down and the mugger ran out just as surprised at the gun discharging as Jim was. When the ambulance had showed up minutes later after Jim had commed them they'd looked at his wound with fascination not having seen a gun shot wound in such a long time.

Now it was a gun that pointed not at him but at his best friend. It was digging into the soft flesh of his temple. There was only two people in the Captains Quarters at this time of night when the rest of the ship was either sleeping or on skeleton shift. One person in the Captains Quarters was shaking in fear and anger with a hint of confusion sloshing around - that was Jim. And the other one was calm, cool, collected and had a gun to his head - that was Bones.

"Bones put the gun down. Please." Jim had his hands out slightly hunched and voice soft, pleading.

A smile formed around Bones's mouth and when he spoke it wasn't his gruff southern twang that urged him to wake up when he was injured or called for him during the Academy days or grouched at him saying, "Dammit Jim!" It was a different voice entirely. Shrill, too high. Evil in every sense of the word.

"Bones isn't hear right now, _Jimmy_," Bones mouth spat out his name like a curse making him flinch.

"Okay..." He tried to put the pieces together in his head as quickly as his brain could comprehend.

It was a successful mission on a non hostile planet full of blue and purple skinned humanoids who used more sign language than actual spoken word. Then it was treaty to join the federation signed and back on the ship he went. They'd taken no casualties at all which was always the markings of a good mission.

Jim had gotten back in his chair and finished off the rest of his shift before venturing back to his rooms, showering and changing and walking to Observation Deck 7 for some poker with the command team. Bones had been there sipping his glass of bourbon while everyone else - save Chekov who had a bottle of grape KneeHigh - had enjoyed a glass of Scotty's own brew from his still that Jim had never seen deep in engineering that Jim didn't know about. After seven hands Uhura had folded claiming stiff fingers and sore wrists after having to communicate with the people planet side all day for the last three days. She'd grabbed Spock on her way out. Sulu went next saying he wanted to catch up on his reading in his room then Bones left remembering he had to call Joanna tonight. Jim had made it one more finger of whiskey and three more hands before he finally had to call it a night and walked back to his quarters. When he'd entered he was surprised to see darkness as he always kept some light on. He'd flipped the switch and almost shit himself when Bones appeared in his room sitting at his desk shadowed in the corner.

"Jesus Christ Bones, you scared the shit out of me." When Bones hadn't moved, hadn't laughed, hadn't talked Jim knew something was wrong.

"Bones...?"

That's when the gun came out and that's when his best friend had spoken in a voice not his own.

"You do what I say or I kill your best friend."

So that's it. No explanation. No reasoning. Just Bones going fucking nuts in his room. Jim's face hardened into a scowl. "What do you want?"

Again Bones's face lit in a smirk that the real Bones rarely used. It was chilling to see eyes dead but face smiling. His eyes were all pupil, no green-speckled-brown irises. It was so strange, unnatural.

"Simple, really." The not-Bones said digging the barrel of the gun even deeper into his friend's skin until his head was practically at a tilted angle still smiling. "You permanently resign your captaincy from Starfleet, go back to Iowa and never step foot on another ship again and maybe I won't kill Leonard Horatio McCoy."

Jim didn't even have to think. Maybe this wasn't a no win scenario and maybe, just maybe if he thought hard enough and long enough he could maybe, possibly think up one of his brilliant plans he was so famous for. Maybe he could get the gun from Bones's hand and knock the good doctor out before whoever had taken control of him could lash out. Maybe he wouldn't have to give up... But he couldn't think. Not now. When a gun is being held to your best friends head you don't have time to think.

"Fine. You win."

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><p><strong>So funny storynot funny story. A few afternoons ago I was hanging out with my friends, nothing too unusual. When all of the sudden I get an email from the site saying "Your story was deleted." Thats it. Deleted. Gone. You can probably imagine my absolute horror upon receiving a simple email saying that all my hard work is just... Gone. Because I accedently put the wrong rating on the story and instead of the person who decided to report this story (shout out to you by the way) PMing me to inform me of my mistake they reported and now I am very sad. Anyways, I have rectified the mistake, the rating has been changed and I apologize to anyone following this story/reviewed/favorited and it just disappeared. So. Here we go again... Round 2**


	2. Chapter 2: The Hearless Man

**Slowly but surly getting this all back up!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: The Heartless Man<strong>

The skeleton crew greeted him with confused stares and brief but professional _Hello, Captain'_s_._

Jim nodded at the on-duty officers then quickly shuffled past the stationed crew to go into his ready room at the back of the bridge. The automatic door whooshed open when he was three feet from it and he entered. The door closed a second before Jim fell against the wall heart pounding, blood rushing. His heart felt like a knife had been driven into the center of it, like someone had taken a bat and pounded it, like a child had thrown it against the wall. It hurt so bad that a part of himself wondered if he even had a heart anymore. He looked down at his hands noticing how they shook at his sides. His mouth felt dry and eyes sore. His whole body was just as confused as his mind and heart.

"Who are you?" Jim had asked, begged, after he'd agreed to resign his commission.

That same smirk sat on not-Bones' lips heavily when he spoke. "My name is Sha'thrill and that's all you need to know."

The gun had been lowered from Bones' head but was still in his hand clutched in tight. Jim's brows furrowed angrily. "I'm giving up my command I think I deserve to know who the fuck you are."

Bones' head tilted to the side, he licked his lips with is tongue just peaking through to touch his outer lip. It was subtle, gentle. Something the real Bones never did. He never did anything so subtle, so gentle. He was gruff with a beside manner to match his cantankerous personality. He was a southern doctor to the backbone. "Actually you're saving your best friend," Sha'thrill informed Jim with a smile. "I'm helping you do that by not killing him. But if you prefer a bullet in his head, I'll kindly oblige you." In a flash the gun was up and digging into his best friends temple. Jim took an involuntary step back with his hands up.

"No! Stop! You're inside of him." Jim said quickly. "You kill him you die too."

Slowly, slower than any movement Bones had ever done Sha'thrill pulled the gun from his temple. A white circle left a divot in his best friends head. "You really have no idea what I am or what is going on do you? Idiot."

Actually, genies level repeat offender, Jim thought but kept his mouth closed this time not wanting to agitate the thing inside Bones.

Sha'thrill slowly lowered the gun and looked at Jim with Bones' dead eyes. "Resign, Captain. Then get off the ship or I will kill your Bones then move on to the rest of your crew."

Jim breathed sharply out of his nose thinking quick. He wanted - no - needed to know what this creature was. He needed to know what was inside of Bones, who Sha'thrill was. What type of alien.

"Stop thinking so loudly, Kirk," Sha'thrill said meandering to Jim's desk chair swinging the gun in his hand.

"What are you?" Jim's voice shook and wavered. Too much emotion building up in his head, flooding his heart making it ache in ways he hadn't felt since five year old Sonne had died on Tarsus from being shot in the head by a soldier.

"To the federation, I don't exist. To the Klingons, I'm just a nightmare. To the Andorrans, I'm mentioned but in whispers and to the Vulcans, I'm nothing but an illogical children's tale. But to you I'm the worst motherfucker you'll ever meet." He ended his small speech with a sneer. For a moment the eyes that Jim knew so well lit up more green than brown. They lit and lit until they were almost florescent. Chills crept down Jim's spine. Maybe... Maybe he could get to the gun. Maybe he could charge the man and Sha'thrill would shoot him instead of Bones. Maybe he could -

"And don't think you can beat me. All I have to do is leave this body and go into a new one and you'd never know where I was or who I am until it's too late."

Even with all the things that he'd done, all the lessons he'd learned, every test he'd aced and every mission he'd completed Jim couldn't think of a way out of this. The enemy was on the inside already.

"I will take all of your most trusted people out one by one until it's only you," Sha'thrill seemed to find himself funny. "But you don't have to worry, James. The last one standing needn't stand for too long.

Jim pulled up a blank document as he sat at his terminal. He stared at the white screen. It felt like the white was burning into his eyes. He typed four words then stopped, his fingers not moving.

_I, James Tiberius Kirk -_

He couldn't write anymore. He couldn't. He'd been a screw up, a fuck up, a dumbass his whole life. He'd been told he'd never amount to anything, that he should have gone over with the car into the quarry. He'd been forced to do horrible, terrible, unspeakable things on Tarsus to survive. He'd picked fights and slept around and drank and drank and drank until alcohol leaked from his pours. He'd been a womanizer, a manwhore. A no good. A dirty rotten. A thief. A liar. He'd been more worthless than the dirt on the road he rode his bike over. He'd been nothing...

But then Pike had shown up and given him that stupid, stupid, wonderful dare to do better. And he'd taken it. He'd taken it like he'd taken the food from Kodos' kitchens when he'd snuck in to help feed his kids. He'd taken the dare and it changed his life.

With Starfleet he could be something, someone. He wouldn't just be the failure son of a dead hero. He wouldn't just be the victim of Kodos' genocide. He'd be someone other people respected. He could be someone people looked up to instead of down upon.

He'd met Bones. Bones with his southern drawl and flask of bourbon at eight o'clock in the morning. Bones in his bitter divorce with an ex-wife that had taken the whole damn planet. Bones who was surely and gruff and said _Dammit_ too often and cursed and drank and had a quick temper and low tolerance but could bullshit with the best of them and cared more for the people on his table than his entire well being and who had the most beautiful daughter this side of the earth. Bones who took care of Jim even when he'd push him away and scream and throw stuff and say he wasn't worth it. Bones who woke him up from nightmares and dragged him back from the library late at night and who gave him hangover hypos and supported him when he needed a friend during the worst of times.

Starfleet had become a new life but Bones became his home.

_... herby resign my commission..._

Jim wrote another line with trembling fingers. He tried to stretch his hand out to stop the tremors.

It would be okay. Everything would be fine. The _Enterprise_ didn't really need Jim anyways, he thought. Spock would become Captain and really, he was supposed to be the Captain. If Jim hadn't accused him of not caring for his dead mother Spock would have stayed Captain. And Sulu would move up to fist officer - one step closer to getting his own ship like he'd been aiming for since the Academy. There'd be no one to bug Uhura and no one to beat Chekov in chess. Scotty could finally make that new brew of Klingon Ale that Jim ordered him not to make since it would put them all on their asses so fast they'd have concussions. Everything would be fine. They'd be fine. The _Enterprise_ would be... Fine.

_... as Captain of the USS Starship Enterprise._

Jim wrote the last line in his three page resignation then sat back. In it he'd given the entire crew accommodations and praise on their hard work. He'd written that they all should be promoted and talked of their bravery in all that they have ever done. But not one word in the three page document told of how much he would miss them. How much he loved them in all the ways a Captain could love his crew and more. Neither did he write why he was resigning. On that matter he wrote: personally compromised. No longer able to fulfill the duties assigned to being the Captain of a Federation Starship.

James Tiberius Kirk most certainly did not cry as he finished his resignation and hit send then shut down his terminal and walked from the ready room that wasn't his anymore.

James Tiberius Kirk did not cry as he walked slowly back to the Captains Quarters not meeting anyone's eye but nodding at the crewmen at all the right times and shoved clothes and shoes and little trinkets into a duffel bag haphazardly. When the bag was only half full he took off his command shirt and stuffed that in there as well. Then he grabbed his leather jacket and the watch from Old Vulcan Spock had given to him months ago and was out the door.

James Tiberius Kirk did not cry as he ordered the Ensign on duty to transfer him to the nearest ship heading back to earth, the Jefferson. The Ensign - Bar'lo - had looked at him with confused eyes to which Jim had only smiled at him sadly and took his place on the transporter pad.

"Energize."

James Tiberius Kirk didn't cry as he materialized on the smaller yet functional transporter pad of the Jefferson to a burly looking ensign who showed him to where he'd be staying until they reached earth in two days time. Jim nodded at the man who just turned and left.

James Tiberius Kirk, no longer Captain of the USS _Enterprise_ cried into his fist soundlessly as he lay on the small bed he was given. That was it. It was over. A part of Jim always thought he'd stay in Starfleet his entire life or until a mission ended bad and he went out in a blaze of glory and a rebel yell. He never thought he'd just give up. But that's what he did. He gave up to save his best friend.

Jim couldn't even feel his heart anymore as he lay on the bed clutching his duffel bag tight to his chest.

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><p><strong>Sorry for any mistakes, I was in a rush.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3: The Dreams That Bind Me

**Chapter 3: The Dreams That Bind Me**

_Red eyes stare at him from an abyss of darkness. The eyes were pin sized and unwavering looking at him wherever he went, baring down on him, staring at him, laughing at him. He couldn't get away from those eyes no matter how hard he tried._

_It was dark. So dark. Light seemed to be nonexistent in this world where only darkness ruled with an iron fist. The darkness was alive. Moving and shaking and morphing and those eyes. Those eyes were looking at him again. Always looking. Always laughing. Always judging his every move and laughing while he stumbled around in the dark._

_He tried to run. Running always helped. He was good at running, all kinds of running. Running into a fight, running to fetch something, running to save someone, running away. It didn't matter. So, he ran._

_His arms pumped and his chest tightened and his throat screamed but he had to get away because those eyes were staring at him. Always staring. Calculating and sizing and measuring and seeing how long it's going to take until he breaks._

_Suddenly, there's something in front of him - no, it's someone. Curly hair and a face too young to be a man but old enough that he couldn't be considered a boy. He's adorned in a gold shirt with red splotches soaking around his torso growing in circumference with every step Jim takes closer to the person. A sound mixed between a scream and an intense intake a breath echoes from Jim's throat and reverberates around the dark abyss. The eyes are still looking at him from behind the person in front of him._

_It's Chekov. Covered in blood. Eyes bloodshot completely covering any white that used to be there. He's clutching a bloody knife in his hands and shaking. His legs are holding himself up by force and willpower alone._

_"Pavel-" Jim's voice is hollow._

_"Vhat..." Chekov's voice is cold in all the ways it should be warm and it chills Jim's bones. Jim shutters violently._

_"Keptin Kork?" Chekov asks with tears in his eyes. He's steady for a second longer before his legs give out on him and he falls. Jim dives to catch him a second before his head could collide with the black ground. His eyes are closed as Jim wraps his arms around him. Jim's doesn't notice the tears that leak from his eyes. The knife slides from Chekov's hands making a dull clink as his hits the ground._

_"Pavel?" Jim asks when Chekov doesn't open his eyes. "Pavel, wake up. Come on, wake up," Jim begs. He looks down at the boy's chest seeing red bleed through his shirt. Chekov's face is so white, so pale. Him puts his ear to Chekov's chest to hear for a heart beat then screams brokenly when he doesn't hear anything. Blood trickles on the ground around the teenager and Jim coating them both. The darkness around Jim moves and morphs again. There's something out there._

_"Wake up Ensign, that's an order," Jim demands shaking the boy. Blood. So much blood. Too much. And it's warm, hot even as it leaves Chekov's body. Jim wants to throw up. He shakes him again. "That's a goddamn fucking order!"_

_Nothing happens. He feels for a pulse then screams again at no one and everyone. Chekov's dead._

_"Please. No."_

_The eyes so red they match the blood covering the ground stare at him._

_Jim sobs looking down at the youngest member of his crew, his friend. Dead. He wasn't fast enough, smart enough, good enough, he wasn't _enough_ to save him. He didn't save him. The blood, it's still so warm and so thick and now it's black against the dark ground. The tangy smell burns Jim's nostrils, burns his hands. He screams as heard as he can shaking the boy until his arms burn. _

_"Please... I don't want to be alone. Don't leave me alone here Pasha."_

_But Chekov doesn't move. Nothing. Dead... Chekov was dead._

_"No!"_

~o0o~

Jim wakes with a start grabbing and clawing and kicking with a scream on his lips. He kicks hard hearing something rip before he's falling, falling, falling then smashing into the ground with a groan.

Jim stops what he's doing with his face pressed into the floor and his legs still entangled in the sheets on his bed. He lays still a moment opening and closing his eyes.

_Just a nightmare. Just a nightmare. It's okay... _

He growls at himself forcing his heart to slow and his breath to catch up to him. He orders the lights on and winces when they assault his eyes. Jim looks around seeing the same room he's been in the last week aboard the Jefferson. It's small and neutral colored with one bed and a bathroom in one room and a couch in another.

_It's_ _okay. It was just a dream... Just another fucking dream. _

Every night it's a different person. First it was Bones who held a gun to his head then it was Spock with a phaser centered between his own eyes. Uhura with a dagger at her throat and Sulu holding a sword against his sides. It's always a different person but the same outcome - they turn the weapon on themselves and pull the trigger or slice with the knife and Jim can do nothing but scream and cry and demand and beg for it to not be true.

"Dammit Jim," he says to himself. "Get yourself together."

Slowly, Jim untangles himself from the blankets and gets up. He sits on his bed heavily, wide awake and exhausted at the same time.

He sits for hours not moving, just thinking. His mind is sluggish but he forces it to think. He doesn't want to think about the Enterprise and his crew and... Bones. But he has to. It feels wrong not to think about everything he left behind and the people who he lost.

The more sensible part of himself knows that he didn't really lose anybody but the surface part, the one that just lost his ship and his career is hell bent on torturing him with all that he doesn't have.

Before he knows it his alarm is blaring to his side and it's time to get up, the Jefferson is reaching earth today. It's time to go home.

An hour later Jim is dressed in the same shirt he wore when he left the Enterprise and his leather jacket. Jim doesn't look at himself after his shower, he's scared to look into his own dead eyes. He's already seen enough of those in the people he dreams of.

With duffel bag in tow he leaves his room for the first time since boarding a week ago. He travels to the transporter pad not looking at any of the crew members that whisper behind hands and into ears staring at him as he passes.

The Jefferson was smaller than the Enterprise. It had one transporter pad where the Enterprise had two. Only one observation deck and seven science labs. It wasn't an exploration ship but it wasn't terrible either. The Captain, a woman with wispy hair and stern eye browns also named Molstic, had been polite and didn't ask any questions when she'd come by to welcome him aboard. She'd looked at his tired eyes with clear pity then saluted him and walked out like the good captain she was. The Jefferson was a good ship, steady, sturdy and space worthy but it had nothing on his ship.

Jim stopped his slow walk to the transporter pad and sucked in a breath surprising even him. His heart gave a shutter, it hurt.

_Not my ship anymore_, his mind whispered in his ear. Jim looked around finding himself in a hallway free of any other crew members. He took a deep breath, scrubbed his eyes so hard stars appeared then kept on walking like nothing had happened in the first place.

When he entered the transporter pad, Jim nodded at the ensign on duty then stepped up. He pulled his sunglasses and ball cap from his bag to hold in his hands.

"Ready sir?" The ensign asked.

No.

"Yes."

Jim feels his body tingle in the most familiar way and his heart sinks. Before he can blink he finds himself on the transporter aboard Space Station 1 just outside Earth's atmosphere. The tech working at the transporter looks at Jim for a moment before his eyes light up in recognition. Jim looks at the man sternly when he sits up straighter and opens his mouth. The man's posture depletes slightly when he catches the hardness in his eyes. Jim nods hoisting his bag further up his shoulder then steps off the pad. He's almost out the door when the man speaks.

"It is true that you resigned, sir?"

Jim whips around fast. "How did you-"

"It's all over the news feeds. They're saying you quit Starfleet. Is it true?" The man is bent over now, his voice wavering as if he was scared of Jim. Jim licks his bottom lip for a moment before walking towards the man. He bends down and places his hand lightly on his shoulder. With a smile that doesn't reach his eyes he says, "you are doing a great job here. Keep up the good work." Then he about-faces and leaves with quick steps.

Jim slides on his sunglasses then pulls the cap over his head and zips up his jacket. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and slouches trying to make himself invisible. Then he looks around, finds the most crowded place and walks towards it intent on getting himself lost in the throngs of people before his shuttle takes off for earth.


	4. Chapter 4: Stop My Beating Heart

**Okay! So, this is the LAST chapter to be reposted and I hopefully will never have to do this again because I cant even explain how angry it makes me that all the reviews, favorites, follows and written work just disappeared. I suppose this should be a lesson to everyone - ensure that you rate your stories correctly. If you're like me and drop an F bomb in there for the sake of the characters speech then change your rating thusly. Again, so sorry for the inconvenience and to ANYONE WHO IS OFFENDED BY CURSE WORDS DO NOT READ THIS! If you are so offended by bad language or any of that stuff then just turn away now because if I get reported again and this story just disappears again I think I might just close my account and move completely to Archive of Our Own (which is AMAZING if you've never heard of it - get there!). I usually don't write star trek and I'm not going to lie, my fist venture into this universe has been rocky at best. It's _really not about reviews or favorites or follows but about writing_ and I love to write, stuff like this just gets me down sometimes. ANYWAYS! Ya'll want to read the update right? Okay, rant is now over, moving on. **

**Again, sorry for the repost but next chapter will be the real thing!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: Stop My Beating Heart<strong>

Leonard "Bones" McCoy stumbled slightly out of his bed when the ringing of his alarm clock became like a jack-hammer shooting into his skull. His hair ruffled something awful and his uniform from the night before still on, horribly crinkled, he walked the short distance from his bed to the bathroom. He ordered the lights on wincing when they lit the room with what should have been a soft glow. Leonard looked at himself in the mirror eyeing his reflection with distaste.

_Must've been a crazy night_, he thought while running one hand through his hair, the other one grabbed for his toothbrush. Leonard bent down after brushing his teeth to spit out the paste and saliva then stood back up and wobbled slightly on his feet. The room spun, he could feel his head turning in circles. His brain gave another hearty pound sending chills down both arms and the back of his neck.

"Damn," he muttered slowly removing his clothes. "How much did I drink last night?"

He got into the shower deciding it was a good day to use some of his water credits that he'd been storing up when he felt like this. Leonard turned on the water humming a tune softly while his mind wandered off to a certain Captain with sunshine gold hair and blue eyes deep like the ocean.

_My oh my, you're so good-looking_

_Hold yourself together like a pair of bookends_

_But I've not tasted all your cooking_

_Who are you when I'm not looking?_

Leonard got out of the shower still singing the old song. He dried off thinking of Jim and what he was doing. Today was Thursday so it would be second shift for him while Leonard had the entire day off. Light duty for the away team from the negotiations and a regular schedule for the rest of the crew.

Leonard dressed in a clean uniform then grabbed one of his hangover hypo's he kept for just an occasion like this and injected himself in the right place where it wouldn't hurt then threw the hypo away. He took hold of his comm unit and flipped it open as he walked out the door.

"McCoy to Kirk," he said into the comm while walking down the hallway. Leonard waited a few minutes for Jim to reply before trying again. When no one spoke back, Leonard just closed his comm.

_Probably still asleep._

He continued to walk towards the Captain's quarters at a leisurely pace nodding a crewmen he liked and scowling at those he knew still owned him trips to the MedBay for physicals. Absently he thought about his best friend. The was his eyes lit up in amazement last night when Leonard had dropped his hand of cards down to show everyone his royal flush.

"That's like, impossible! The odds on getting a royal flush in this game is... A million to one!"

"Actually Captain, the odds are not that substantial as it is completely likely to pick up the order of playing cards-"

Spock had been silenced with a glare from not only Jim but also Uhura and Scotty. The green blooded hobgoblin had looked down at his cards, shifted only minutely then spoke without looking up.

"Of course Jim is correct that it is truly a feat that you managed such a draw of cards, Dr. McCoy."

Leonard had glared while Jim had smiled at Spock with a gleam in his eyes that showed unmistakable happiness. If Leonard hadn't known any better he would have thought it was affection that laid deep in his best friend's eyes as he looked at the Vulcan. But he knew better and the way Jim had turned his gaze at Leonard when he thought he wasn't looking made Leonard's heart skip a beat even now, a night later walking down the corridor.

Jim is... He's a man with a past and too much hurt and pain and suffering built up behind walls that were too thick and emotions that were too well guarded at times. He's a genius with an IQ higher than almost everyone at the Academy and a martyr complex to match. He's brave and kind and could shoot the shit with the best of them. He's aggressive and self-serving and hardheaded and didn't listen to orders Leonard ever gave him about his health. He's quick tempered about certain subjects and damn straight annoying on some days. He always has to be in the thick of the battle and he always needs to be a goddamn stupid dumbass and do something heroic like save someone or jump in front of phaser fire or leap off a drill with no shoot. He's a pain in the ass on some days and a pest every other day of the week.

Leonard shook his head nearing Jim's quarters.

Jim is... He's a handsome man. A pretty man if Leonard had ever seen one. His smile, when it hits his eyes, brightens the room - and that's the most stupid ass cliché Leonard can think of. He's bright when Leonard feels dark and happy when Leonard is sad. He makes Leonard feel... like he has a purpose. Like he's on this tin can death trap for a reason, even if that reason is saving Jim's ass every time he gets into a mess. Jim is the master of one night stands when he gets in the mood but also the best listener and caretaker when given the chance. Leonard wishes that the kid could just stop trying to impress people with his Devil-may-care attitude and open up, let everyone see the true Jim Kirk that he's been seeing ever since that drunk night at the academy on his Daddy's would've-been birthday.

After too many beers and way too many fingers of whiskey, Leonard had been a rambling, blubbering mess with snot dripping from his nose and hair greasy from running alcohol soaked hands through it. Jim had showed up at the bar, how he'd known Leonard would be there was anyone's guess. But he'd looked at Leonard with eyes that held no pity and no sadness but understanding.

"How about we get you home, Bones."

"I d'n't need a b'bysitter. I got a few m'shots left."

"We'll get them to go. How about that Bonsey?"

With that Leonard had felt himself being hauled to his feet and led outside. The brisk San Fransisco air had cleared his mind somewhat as Jim helped him walk back to their dorm. His head fell against the kid's shoulder, he was warm. Smelled nice. Like sunshine and some bourbon and maybe a little after shave.

"It's cologne actually, I was on a date."

"I killed my daddy, Jim."

"We've all done things we're not proud of, Leonard."

Leonard shook himself away from his thoughts as he stepped up to Jim's door and knocked. There weren't many crew member around at the time but those who were looked at him in the corners of their eyes trying to be discreet. He waited a minute after knocking to try to knock again.

Nothing.

Something didn't feel right. The pit of Leonard's stomach twisted in unease.

"Jim," he called through the door after knocking roughly again. "Open up kid."

Still nothing. No sound came through the door from movement inside. Leonard opened his mouth to try again but stopped as his comm sounded at his belt.

"Bridge to Dr. McCoy."

Leonard growled and grabbed for his comm. It was Spock's voice on the other end.

"McCoy here."

"You are needed in the Captain's ready room immediately."

Jim, Leonard thought. The bad feeling in his stomach intensified.

"On my way," he said as calmly as he could already running towards the turbo lift. He sprinted inside and closed the door with more aggressive button pushing than was necessary. He grabbed the emergency med kid he kept in one of the storage compartments just for such occasions and held it tight to his chest. Once the lift opened at the bridge he rushed out in the most professional manner he could manage. He looked around the bridge at the people manning their stations. Most of them looked at him, others had their heads down. Chekov had his head in his hands with Sulu's arms gently on his shoulder. Leonard quickened his pace to the ready room almost bursting through with his bag clutched and half opened. He was surprised when he opened the door to just see Spock sitting in one of the chairs around the large table in the middle of the room. His eyes scanned the space looking for Jim but he saw nothing.

"Doctor, have a seat," Spock said. It must've been Leonard's imagination because did Spock's voice just seem - sad?

Leonard sat down and the screen across the room lit up with the familiar face of Admiral Pike. He had a few more wrinkles creasing his face but his hair was neatly combed. His eyes looked wild however, with anger or saddness, Leonard wasn't sure.

A part of Leonard, the part that hadn't gone through three years at the academy and was a gruff old southern doctor to the bones wanted to snap and yell and demand to know what was going on. But the larger side of him, the one tamed by years of training and patience told him to wait. So he did.

Admiral Pike took a breath and leaned forward in his chair.

"McCoy, what is this I'm holding in my hand?" He held up a pad with a written document displayed, but Leonard couldn't see what it said.

"I'm not sure, Admiral Pike. What is it?" He crossed his arms and scowled at the Admiral keeping Spock in his peripheral vision.

"Let me read the first line - _I, James Tiberius Kirk, hereby resign my commission as Captain of the Starship_ Enterprise."

Leonard sucked in a breath, his headache from before that had been dulled from adrenaline and the hypo flashed back in full force making him wince. A pad was slid in front of him by Spock with a copy of the document sent from Pike. Leonard looked it over with quick eyes scanning for anything that would say that this is a joke, that Jim didn't really just resign. But when he hit the bottom and his eyes ran over his best friend's signature Leonard could feel his heart stop beating in his chest.

"Where is he?" Leonard's mouth was too dry, his head pounded. Pike was silent so Leonard whipped around to look at Spock.

"According to the ships logs the Captain - Jim - left the _Enterprise_ at four twenty-three this morning. He beamed over to the research vessel _Jefferson_ that is scheduled to arrive in earths atmosphere in the next week." Spock always prided himself on his ability to not show emotions. He was Vulcan, not human and he did everything in his power to suppress the deep emotions that swelled inside of him. The anger that Jim had left without even a comm, the sadness that now he lost one of the very few people he had considered a friend. The uncertainty because now he was in charge. Now he was the captain. It all bubbled inside of him threatening to burst forth from his carefully constructed walls.

"Commander Spock, it looks like you're the captain now," Pike said after clearing his throat.

Leonard growled. "You gotta be fucking kidding me. Jim's gone for two seconds and your already replacing him with this fucking hob-"

"Doctor," Spock broke through Leonard's rant with quick words. "I do not intend on being the Captain of this vessel nor do I intend to just simply let Jim leave with no explanation as to his mysterious departure."

Leonard stared at Spock with his mouth half opened and eyes large in disbelief.

"Furthermore I believe it is necessary to not only find where he has gone to but to, as you have said on so many occasions, slap him into gear."

"I didn't hear any of that," Pike's voice surprised Leonard so much he jumped, Spock's face remained impassive. They both turned to look at the Admiral. "But if I did I would say that I agree wholeheartedly that you should go and find out what happened. I'm ordering the Enterprise be sent back to earth on the grounds of repairs after the mission you are on now."

Leonard and Spock both nodded their thanks at the Admiral.

"Now go debrief your command team on the situation."

~o0o~

There was a small child sitting next to him on the shuttle from San Francisco to Riverside. The child was small with little teeth and brown hair lining his face all around. His eyes were a deep brown in all the ways Jim's were a crystal blue and shined when sunlight hit them in an almost unnatural way. The child had his head laid against the the back of his seat swaying back and forth as he slept fitfully. Every once in a while the child's head would fall against Jim's shoulder startling him from his own thoughts. The first few times Jim had moved the kid's head back against the headrest and continued to stare out the window. But after the fourth time Jim just said fuck it and let the kid lay on his shoulder. He only had be to eight or nine, with no parents on the shuttle with him and Jim was alone anyways feeling miserable and sick to his stomach, he supposed if he could help the kid in some way then to hell with it. Let the kid sleep.

Jim looked down at the boy with an exhausted gaze. It had been a week since he'd left the _Enterprise_, his crew and... Bones. But it felt like longer. He'd turned off his comm unit the second he stepped foot on the Jefferson then buried it deep in his bag under all his clothes and meager belongings in a place where he would have to push everything aside and dump his bag if he wanted to get to it. Which he didn't.

He wasn't running away, he was protecting his people - his crew. The people he couldn't live without but now must live without. He was protecting Bones.

_Bones..._

The mental picture of his best friend with a gun to his head made Jim shiver even though he was wearing his leather jacket. The nightmares hadn't stopped, he doubted they ever would. Guns and knives and phasers and death and killing themselves and -

"Why do you look sad?" A voice said from somewhere beside Jim. Jim took his head off the window and shook it while closing his eyes. He was surprised to feel wetness dampen his eyes from unshed tears. He blinked hard trying to dispel them. Jim looked down at the boy who was now wide awake and gazing at him with brown eyes and messy hair. He cleared his throat and said, "I lost something important to me."

It was true. So very, very true that it made his heart burn.

"Was it something you loved?" The boy asked innocently.

Jim licked his lips wanting nothing more than to jump out the window. Instead he settled for just turning away from the boy and saying softly, "Yes."

The kid was silent for a few minutes, "Did you lose someone?"

Jim turned back to the boy and in the same way he spoke to the transporter technician he said, "I think that's enough questions." And turned back to the window his eyes cloudy and heart aching. It's wasn't just the fact that he no longer had his ship but knowing that he's the one who walked away. To save the people he loves he had to walk away. A no win scenario.

"I lost my mom. She died and now I'm going to live with my dad. My mom always said dad was a farmer and you don't see a lot of farmers anymore do you? Mom said he was a good guy and would take care of me but I've never met my dad before. Mom said he's tall with hair like mine and eyes like mine."

Jim looked down at the kid to see him staring straight up at him. His eyes were large and brown like almonds with specks of green. A shiver ran over Jim's arms as he thought of Bones's eyes. Green and brown with specks of black and sometimes gold all meshed around each other in his irises. It was a place like this, in a shuttle to San Francisco that Jim had met Bones for the first time. Him hungover and still covered in blood from the night before and Bones unshaven and sleep deprived yelling about how he didn't want to die in a thing that flys and how all he's got left is his Bones.

"My mom died on a Starship." The boy said sadly. Jim scratched at nose and turned away from the boy not trusting himself to keep his emotions in check.

"... My dad died on a starship too."

~o0o~

When the shuttle had finally landed and Jim managed to get himself back under control he followed the boy - Tyler, he said his name was during one of his many rambles. He helped the kid out of his seat and grabbed his bag for him. Tyler continued to talk about his dad and how he planted wheat in his fields like the farms from the twentieth century. Jim nodded at all the right moments and smiled when the kid tried to joke. He'd only known the kid for a few hours but he could see the pain behind his eyes. The way he talked and talked and talked about his mom like she was still alive. Jim saw himself inside the young boy. Angry and bitter but plastering a smile on his face and faking it to stop the questions.

"Let's go find your dad, kid," he said kid the same way Bones used to talk to him. It almost felt nice, nostalgic to be the one calling instead of the one being called.

When they got off the shuttle, him with his hat and sunglasses firmly in place and the kid quiet with nerves, Jim walked Tyler towards a group of people that were still a ways away when Tyler grabbed at Jim's sleeve and pulled him forward.

"I see him," he almost yelled. Jim gave the boy a small smile. He stopped walking when the boy sped up. Tyler walked a few feet before feeling the absence of Jim next to him. He turned and looked back and waved. Jim smiled at the innocence of it all. At this small boy, so happy waving hard just a few feet away from him.

"Goodbye Captain Kirk," Tyler yelled.

The smile on Jim's face melted slowly off. Dred filled his heart.

~o0o~

There was no one at the shipyard to pick him up to take home, but Jim wasn't surprised. His mother was still in the middle of a four year science exploration tour and Frank well, Frank wouldn't come pick him up even if he'd asked him to, which he didn't. So he hiked his bag back up on his shoulder and got a ride in a taxi. He didn't give his name but he gave his address to the man driving. The man drove in silence all the way to Jim's old house then stopped in front of the driveway. Jim pulled out his credit chip but the man waved him off when he asked how much. Jim persisted however, he wasn't about to get charity. But the man frowned at him and shook his head hard then pointed out of the car. Jim finally relented angrily and grabbed his bag then got out the car. It pulled away before him could try again to give him the cab fare.

Jim closed his eyes feeling the hot sun on his face and breeze rustle his jacket and jeans. He took a deep breath to steady himself then took a step towards his house. The house that he hadn't been back to in too many years.

Every step he took broke his heart a little more and a little more and a little more. It felt like walking on the hard stones and gravel on Tarsus with no shoes and bloodied feet. Like dragging his feet while holding tight to an injured ensign to the beam out point. It hurt, excruciating heartbreak.

Jim opened the door before he could think better of it and stepped inside the same house he'd tryed to run away from countless times in his young wild youth. He noticed his hands shook as he closed the door. Jim cursed at himself.

"What are you doin' here?" A gruff voice said suddenly from where he remembered the kitchen being. Jim jumped thinking back on all the times that voice had screamed at him, yelled at him. The arms and hands and feet that had beat him when he was younger and thought that this was what should happen, that it was okay to hurt him when he was being bad or annoying.

"I told you I was coming," Jim snapped back mentally shaking himself. He swallowed thickly as Frank came around the corner in a ratty flannel shirt and jeans dirty with mud from the fields around their farmhouse.

Frank sniffed then rubbed at his nose and stumbled chin with grimy fingers. "No you didn't."

Jim said nothing choosing instead to reach down to start untying his boots trying to ignore the fact that the man who had caused him constant pain in his childhood and who he though he had left to never see again, was back. Or, he was back. In the house he hated so much.

"Did you being any of your fag friends back this time?"

Jim didn't answer, he stared at the ground more defeated then ever before.

This... This was his life now.

* * *

><p><strong>The song is <em>Who Are You When I'm Not Looking<em>, by Blake Shelton :)**


	5. Chapter 5: The Brigade of One

**Chapter 5: The Brigade of One**

The house creeks and cracks and shifts at night and in the early hours of the day. It doesn't hum or whirl like his ship used to do when he laid down for the sleep cycle they called night time. Air sweeps in through the sides of the old house from poor insulation and lack of upkeep on this side of the house. The way it creaks and tremors every once in a while makes Jim jerk in surprise before settling back down and staring at the stained ceiling. It's cold in his room, the wind puncturing his wall on one side and forcing its way through. Jim lays under his blankets cocooned in the quilt he used to quiver under when he was younger. The one he'd used as a shield when he had come back from Tarsus and didn't want to face the world. The quilt was warn but not threadbare, it could still keep him warm when the night air swept into his room.

Jim closed his eyes slowly trying to force sleep to take him. It never used to be this hard to turn his brain off, to silence the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He used to have it down to a science where he'd just shut down, force his mind not to think. It's how he'd survived the time after Tarsus or when Frank got smashed and came home rip roaring drunk. He would imagine his body being encased with warm lava that didn't burn but slowed him down creeping down each and every vein and slithering from toes to fingers until it reached his forehead.

At first he'd tried thinking of himself falling down into darkness slowly, letting the cool depths sooth away any lingering pain or pressing matters. But then the Narada happened and a slow decent became a plummet and darkness became the surface of Vulcan and Jim would gasp, jerking up with a heart beating too fast and a body covered in sweat, shaking and grabbing out for Sulu because no, no he couldn't let him die. He would not let this man die. No… _No._

Enterprise_. _Enterprise_. Where are you? _Enterprise_...? Please!_

Jim bucks up hard enough to shake the bed. His heart pounds roughly as sweat beads his face. He hadn't realized he'd actually managed to doze off. Turning his head, Jim looks at the chrono beside his bed with blurry eyes. It reads _6:37am_ and Jim just stares thinking of how he'd only managed to close his eyes an hour ago.

Sighing deeply, Jim rubs at his eyes wishing that he could get back to sleep but at the same time praying he doesn't. It's been like this since he got off the _Jefferson_. Every time he closes his eyes he sees something, has a nightmare that forces his eyes open or makes him want to throw up.

It had been almost three weeks since he had left the _Enterprise_ and his friends. Three weeks of solitude only briefly broken by yelling matches with Frank over stupid things. Although Jim had yet the see the man stumbling around the house drunk as he used to before he left for Starfleet Jim is still weary of him. Jim just shifts around the house quietly, when he thinks the older man isn't home or knows he is out in the fields working. The farm wasn't just something pretty to look at after all, it was actual working land.

Jim only leaves his room when he needs to and even then he's quiet, using light steps almost like he didn't want to disturb the sleeping ghosts that hide in the darkest corners of the old farmhouse.

The times he has needed to go down the creaky steps and towards the kitchen were tense and awkward. Three times Frank had been sitting at the table reading the paper or smoking a cigarette and twice Jim dared to comment on smoking inside the house. It was such a barbaric thing mostly eradicated after the late 2050's but most importantly it messed with Jim's allergies. The smoke choked his lungs, made his tongue swell to the point that it made it hard to breathe or close his mouth. His many allergies had always been bad but after... after Tarsus his already messed up body went crazy creating new things he was allergic to and rejected with vigor.

After grumbling to himself about the cigarette smoldering between Franks thick fingers the man had thrown it across the room and yelled. Jim had easily dodged the offensive thing and didn't say anything else. That was a week and a half ago, that was also the last time Jim actually had something sustainable to eat. For the first few days his stomach had growled and protested but then it had stopped. He wasn't hungry anymore.

His days were spent either in his room or out in the barn. He did anything he could to stay away from Frank. He had to be here and if Frank kicked him out them. Well, he didn't have anywhere else to go.

The thought had crossed his mind when he sat on his bunk on the _USS_ _Jefferson_ on the way to earth that he could go anywhere he wanted to, do anything he wanted to do. All the places he'd ever want to travel were open for him to explore. But with what money? Where would he go? And the last thought that always crossed Jim's mind was the simple fact that there was no place on earth he wanted to go. All the places he wanted to explore involved a shiny ship, a loyal crew and a less than enthusiastic chief medical officer.

San Francisco was where his 'Fleet supplied apartment was but he didn't want to go there. Too many memories, too big a chance for someone he knew to come knocking on his door asking questions he couldn't answer. He also didn't have many credits. When he's become Captain he'd signed the PADD that entitled him to only receive his credits at the end of every tour with the only deviation being if he requested to have a small amount put on a chip for an upcoming shore leave. Jim had made it this way so that he wouldn't have to deal with the credits until he was back on earth. Most away missions were diplomatic anyway, he didn't have much need for credit chips to be laying around his quarters or stuffed in his pocket where he would most likely lose them. Jim had always been bad at that, losing the chips that were in his pocket. The small rectangles attached to his bank account just had a way of slipping from his pants pocket without warning.

He'd left the _Enterprise_ with nothing other than a duffle bag and a broken heart. The money he did have would've been locked down tight as soon as they'd received his resignation. It would not be touched until he contacted Starfleet headquarters himself and told them where to forward the money to. When Jim had gotten off of the _Jefferson_ that had been last thing he'd wanted to do. With how bad his odds normally were Jim would go to comm HQ and somehow end up getting into direct contact with Admiral Pike.

Jim shuttered thinking of Pike's face, how disappointed he most likely is right now. How confused he is because why? It would've made no sense for Jim to have fought so hard for the _Enterprise_ to just get up and leave. Resigning not only from being a Captain but also all of Starfleet.

_"Four years? I'll do it in three." _

So cocky, so on top of the world. So confident that there was nothing he couldn't do and no one he couldn't beat. There was no such thing as a no win scenario. But that was before all this. Before Bones and evil aliens with names he could barely pronounce. That was before he knew how it felt to have someone care for him not because they had to or because he was thrust upon them and they were told to take care of him but someone who cared for him without anything in return. It was strange, Jim had often thought, the way Bones would groan and mumble and curse Jim seven ways from Sunday every time he came back to their dorm stumbling drunk or bleeding. He would stare at him for only a second before grabbing his personal medkit from under his bed and fixing Jim up the best he could.

The first time Bones had fixed up a broken part of his body had been after a bar brawl gone bad. Jim had tried to hide his obviously broken wrist as he slithered into their shared dorm room well after any normal person would be asleep. He had almost made it to his welcoming bed intent on just sleeping everything off and dealing with it in the morning like he had been doing when Bones said his name making him jump then hiss as he accidently jarred his arm. Hearing Jim's distress Bones had gotten up out of bed and ordered him to sit at their small table. The older man had been hesitant, as if he didn't want to touch Jim too roughly or handle him the wrong way with prodding fingers. After a few minutes of the older man using too gentle fingers on his wrist that was three sizes too big Jim had snapped still a little drunk but now that he was off the high of the fight he could feel every ache and pain radiate and pulse through his abused body.

"What the fuck man just fix it and let's get to bed."

Bones – Leonard as he insisted to be called even though they had been roommates for a semester already he still refused his nickname – was startled by the hot tempered voice and ended up dropping Jim's hand to the table. Jim tried to bite back a yelp but failed miserably.

"I'm sorry-I... I just haven't..." The man turned away pretending to look at the tools in his medkit with eyes that had suddenly become misty. Jim sobered immediately realizing the look in Bones' eyes as the one his mother often held.

"What is it?" He asked lightly not sure he wanted an answer.

"Nothing." Was the quick and automatic reply but Jim wouldn't let Bones off the hook that easily. They didn't call him James T. Pain-In-The-Ass Kirk for nothing.

Jim reached forward without hesitation and placed his hand on his friend's arm lightly.

"Leonard," he said surprising the man so much he flicked his head to him. "What's wrong?"

Bones licked his lip then ran a shaking hand through his messy bed head hair. He spoke quietly, "I don't usually work on people I care about, Jim. I never... Not after my Daddy..."

Staying quiet Jim's eyes never left Bones' and in turn Bones didn't turn away for a long moment. When he finally did was when he spoke again.

"I killed my Daddy, Jim."

Normal people would have jerked away, stood up, demanded him to explain or backed away like he was a murderer. But Jim wasn't most people. He too had seen death and he had felt the blood of another's on his hands dry and flake away in patches. He too had demons and skeletons in his closet but this wasn't his time, it was Bones' time. So Jim just sat in silence and listened.

Bones spoke fast and quietly all the while going through the motions of fixing Jim's wrist. He told a story of an older man stricken by illness slowly rotting away in a too white hospital room. He told of a younger man who had gone through medical school and had his own practice and for all intents and purposes should have been able to stop the spread of the disease before it claimed the man. But it was no so and every day that young man, that _son_ had to watch his father get thinner and sicker until the man told him it was okay. He said that he didn't want to put his Mamma or him through this anymore. He said that he had found peace and that it was okay...

_It is okay Leonard. _

And a few days later that man's life support was shut down and surrounded by his son and old wife he slipped away peacefully into an unknown.

It was only three months later a cure was found and three months and one day after the son helped kill his father that son turned to the bottle and vowed never to touch anyone he cared for with the hands the murdered the father he loved.

When Bones had finished his story he was in tears but not sobbing as Jim would have expected any lesser man would have been. Jim just nodded showing that he had heard yet didn't say anything just yet. He treated the man, the son, as he would want to be treated if he ever told his sort of Tarsus IV. After a silence that stretched just long enough Jim finally said softly.

"I trust you Bones. I trust you."

Bones just stared at him before his head fell into his hands and he cried in what must have been the first time. Jim stood up and came around the table until he was in front of Bones then he got down on his knee and hugged the man in every way he wished his mother would have hugged him when he cried.

It was then that Jim realized something. Bones cared for him and he wasn't used to that. He didn't need to show off his body or sleep with him or offer any favors. All he did was listen to the man and care for him. Jim's heart warmed at the thought of actually having someone who cared for him. Of actually having a friend...

Tears stung at Jim's eyes but he bit them back. No more crying. It didn't matter that he had left all of the people he had ever been friends with back on his beautiful ship. It didn't matter that everything he had fought so hard for and loved was still exploring through space, the great unknown, without him. What mattered was that they were safe. They were safe if he wasn't there. Bones was safe without him there. Everyone was safe without him there. They had probably already promoted Spock to Captain and Sulu to First Officer, Jim knew that man would get his own ship one day and this was just helping him get it faster.

Everything was fine. Everyone was happy.

Everyone but Jim…

Jim shook his head and stood from his bed. It didn't matter if he wasn't happy, all that mattered was his crew, his friends.

Jim walked to his bathroom shedding his clothes as he did. He felt numb and he watched as his hand turned on the shower and his feet stepped under the water without his mind really understanding what was going on. He took a long time in the shower, more time than he had ever taken actually. After a while his knees started to tremble and he felt himself falling against the slick side of the shower wall. Almost like it was in slow motion Jim could feel himself being lowered to the wet ground of the shower. He let the water wash over his body until the heat ran out and he was left sitting under the cold spray shivering but not wanting to get out. His hands were shaking hard by the time the water finally shut off and from far away a deep voice was yelling but Jim couldn't understand it. It sounded like Frank and an unconscious part of Jim told him he should be scared but he wasn't. He was numb.

So he sat there, shivering, freezing and he couldn't understand why he couldn't move his body but he honestly didn't care.

His crew didn't need him. They were fine without him.

From somewhere there was a banging as if someone was right at his bathroom door but… but that wasn't right. It couldn't have been right. No one wanted Jim here so there couldn't have been anyone wanting to get his attention because no one cared about him, not here, not anywhere. The ghosts don't even care about him here in this damning farmhouse that never really was his home.

His stomach growled but Jim ignored it just like he had been doing for two weeks. His stomach begged him to eat by the way it felt like monsters were kicking his insides but his mind told him he wasn't hungry, so he didn't eat.

Jim sat staring at the wall but not seeing it. Again there was a violent banging from the bathroom door but Jim barely heard it. The edges of his vision were going dark as his body shook and shivered.

_"__You do what I say or I kill your best friend."_

That voice was Bones but everything about it was wrong and it made Jim's heart clench until it hurt. He could feel his heart beating, _pounding_, in his chest but he didn't care. A heartbeat meant he was still alive but maybe… maybe he didn't want to be. What could he do now? He had no ship, no commission, no friends, no… Bones. There was no one who cared for him and he was nothing. Nothing.

_"__My dad died on a starship…"_

Jim couldn't breathe but he didn't care. He couldn't drag any breath into his body but what was the point? He was nothing now. He had nothing.

_"__Goodbye Captain Kirk!"_

The pounding on the door finally stopped and Jim felt relieved. Distantly he heard the sound of someone forcing their way into the small room. The door crashed open with old pieces of wood splintering off to the sides. Someone walked briskly over to him with a red face and dirty hands as if theyhad been working out in the fields. A face came into Jim's swimming vision. The face was angry and making loud sounds that Jim couldn't understand. The man, for it was a man with a hard face who looked so familiar but Jim couldn't place him put a hand on his wet shoulder and Jim realized he was still naked, but he didn't care. His body hurt, he could feel himself shaking.

Frank. It was Frank that leaned over him, Jim's muddy mind supplied but that couldn't be right. The man – Frank? – looked frightened and Frank never looked frightened.

The last thing Jim saw before he succumbed to the darkness pulling at him was the man pulling out a comm from his pocket and hurriedly dialing a number as he leaned over Jim's trembling body.

Then everything went black and he felt peace.

* * *

><p><strong>Apologies for taking so long to update. School and all that. Hope you enjoyed this update there's more to come!<strong>


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